


The Letter

by soliduck



Series: Chowder's Marvelous Wish-Granting Engine [1]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic), Chuubo's Marvelous Wish-Granting Engine (RPG)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Alternate Universe - High School, Destiny, Dreams, Gen, Magical Realism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-30
Updated: 2019-12-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:35:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22035673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soliduck/pseuds/soliduck
Summary: Shitty Knight gets a letter and dreams about the future.
Series: Chowder's Marvelous Wish-Granting Engine [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1586089
Kudos: 6





	The Letter

The letter that came was addressed to him – with his chosen name, even. That’s the only reason he bothered opening it. The return address said “Entropy's School, Town” and his father had decreed that he was going to Andover, no negotiations allowed. Shitty was resigned to that fact, taking comfort that he’d have at least one friend – Derek Nurse, who he had met at summer camp.

The letter outlined why this school was interested in him and the reasons were… not what he expected. No mention of his father or his legacy, only briefly touching on his academic and athletic achievements and then just a list of all the things he loved most about himself and the firm assurance that those were the exactly qualities they were looking for. Which…

How did they know? Nobody knew he wanted to grow a mustache, except…

He called Derek, who picked up after a couple of rings.

“I got your letter brah, very funny. You couldn’t come up with a better name for the city this school is in than ‘Town’?”

There was silence on the other end of the line, then, “I thought _you_ sent _me_ this letter.”

“You got one too?”

“Yeah, its got a scarily accurate assessment of my personality and a very thoughtful critique of a bunch of stuff I’ve written and never shown anybody. Stuff I wrote _yesterday_. This is some Hogwarts bullshit.”

Shitty’s eyes scanned down the page, “Hogwarts didn’t have a hockey team. Or a pre-law track.”

“What kind of high school has a pre-law track?”

“The kind that doesn’t exist. This is clearly someone’s idea of a joke.”

“Yeah, totally.”

They talked for a bit, shared their hopes that they’d end up as roommates at Andover but eventually hung up. Shitty folded the letter and put it on his desk and out of his mind.

That night he dreamed a true dream.

In the dream he was older, eighteen at least, and had a mustache. It was glorious. He stood at the edge of reality with nine other people, and though he only recognized Derek, he knew that these people were his best friends in the whole world. His friends were all heroes of legend, wielders of miracles and magic and he was an equal among them. He knew that they had all come here because today was the day that Death, the Headmaster of the Bleak Academy would come to unmake the world.

Shitty had spent the last four years preparing for this day. Searching out everything in the world that was good, and right and honest. Trying to find meaning in the things that weren’t, because you couldn’t save the world without saving those things too. All of it was evidence in his case, clauses in his argument for the world.

That it was good, actually.

That it deserved to exist.

Soon the Headmaster would come riding out of the swirling mists of the Outside and Shitty would stride out to meet him. And when Death raised his great black bow to strike Shitty dead, he would call out “Wait! Listen to me!”

And because after four years the world itself had come to believe that when Shitty spoke, people should listen - Death would pause, and lower his bow.

And Shitty would make his case.

It could work. The Headmaster could argue back, and Shitty could counter his every statement flawlessly and the Headmaster would give up his war against creation and find a way to live among them in peace.

Or maybe he would simply return to the far and sunless lands, never to return.

Maybe it would only buy the world a temporary reprieve, a stay of execution.

Maybe all his argument would do is plant a seed of doubt in the Headmaster’s mind, and that would be enough for his friends to fight and defeat him.

Maybe all Shitty would accomplish is making the Headmaster feel a small twinge of regret as he steps over their broken and bloody bodies to snuff out the light of the world.

Maybe not even that.

Shitty believes that it will work, though. Or that failing, that it will matter that he tried. He _has_ to believe that.

The Outside stirs, and he can hear the clop of approaching hooves.

He’s ready.

He wakes up, and begins to work on the note he’s going to leave his father when he runs away to go to Town. To face his destiny.


End file.
